Bedtime
by War-Drums
Summary: John notices how exhausted Sam is and tries to help. Gen.


**Author's note- **Hi there! This isn't my first time writing, but it is my first time posting on this particular site. This story is a Fill for a prompt on the ohsam commentfic meme on LJ.

**Summary- **John notices how exhausted Sam is and tries to help. Gen.

**Original Prompt-** 'Sam always had trouble sleeping. After a week without sleep he is tired and isn't able to focus on anything. John starts to notice how exhausted Sam is and tries to help him sleep.'

Okay, so it'd taken a while for him to notice. The point was that he did now, and he was going to fix it.

The past week had been stressful for John and Dean. They were working hard on this case, trying to connect the dots and pin-point the monster to blame for the deaths happening in the little town. They mulled over the evidence and gathered lore, working day and night and catching cat-naps whenever their caffeine stopped working. Luckily, Dean was out of high school now and could handle the crazy hours and sleeping at odd times during the day.

Sam, unfortunately, was not out of school yet.

The younger Winchester had always been a light sleeper. When he was a baby it was a battle every night to get him to rest and you better believe if you made one sound louder than dropping a feather, he'd be up and screaming immediately. He'd eventually figured out that having the boys sleeping on the same bed helped Sam stay under.

_Too bad they're too old for that now_, John thought.

Apparently, the ever observant John Winchester hadn't noticed that his and Dean's late nights were also keeping Sam up. His boy's bedroom door did nothing to keep out their voices, or the light they used constantly during the night. Dean also usually had the TV or Radio turned on at a low volume, to help him concentrate. It looked like it wasn't low enough by the sight of the bags under Sam's red rimmed eyes.

John didn't understand why Sam never mentioned anything, he never minds bitching about anything else. That wasn't important though. He needed to make sure his boy was sleeping. It was unhealthy to go this long without a good night's rest, and it lowered your defenses and made you vulnerable. He didn't like seeing the glazed look on his son's face, or see his shaky, unsteady hands and he tried to help clean the weapons.

He's made up his mind then, Dean and John would just have to be a little more considerate to the youngest Winchester.

After dinner, Dean's head still stuck in the case, which was probably why he hadn't noticed his little brother before John, Sam pulled out his homework for the night. All during the meal, Sam's head had drooped, then jerk back upright, only to start sinking again a moment later. Stifling a yawn, he sharpened his pencil to begin.

"Sam" John interrupted, "don't worry about that, son. You can do it later. Go on to bed"

Sam looked sleepily confused, like he was having a hard time remembering the meaning of words. "But its due the day after tomorrow," He said "I need to finish as much as I can right now" He yawned again, his eyes watering a little in the corners.

"Its fine, Sam, Dean and I will help you out with it tomorrow night, it'll get done faster that way" John said, having no idea what his homework even was, but knowing Sam was too tired to come back with a good argument.

"Uh, okay?" Sam replied, and slowly stood to start shuffling off to bed.

John got up too, and crossed the room to flip the light switch, sending it into darkness. Sam stopped and looked back at him. "Aren't you going to work on the case?"

"Yeah, we'll work in the kitchen, more counter space." Sam shrugged and turned to his room again, only to sway to the right and stumble down to his trembling hands and knees. John ran over to help him stand, holding Sam's elbow and placing his arm around the boy's back. Dean was still at the kitchen table in the other room, and hadn't noticed.

Together they sluggishly walked into the bedroom and John lowered Sam onto the foot of the bed, then left him to change clothes.

As John was gathering up his notes from the living room and moving them into the kitchen where Dean was, he reached over and turned off the radio that was playing some car wash commercial at a volume that he now noticed was maybe a little _too_ loud. Ignoring Dean's annoyed "_Hey_!" he placed his data on the counter and pulled out the things he needed.

In the back of his head, he knew Sam was probably too old for warm milk, but he also knew that it had worked when his boy was a small child, and figured it couldn't hurt now.

Dean made a face as he pulled the glass from the microwave, "What? Tired of coffee?"

John flicked the back of Dean's ear as he passed by with the cup, ignoring him again.

As he entered the bedroom of his youngest, Sam was standing in sweatpants and setting his alarm. His back was hunched and he looked about ready to collapse. He sat down on the bed and pulled the blanket over himself.

John set the glass down on the nightstand, and settled on the edge of the mattress.

"Uh, thanks Dad" Sam said and took a sip, followed by a larger gulp. He sighed and leaned back into his pillow.

John nodded and cleared his throat. "That window lets in an awful lot of light, doesn't it?" He asked aloud. Sam's head was drooping again, and without waiting for an answer John exited the room. He returned with a roll of duct tape, and the spare blanket from the hall closet. His make-shift curtain he put up wasn't exactly beautiful, but it made the room much darker.

Sam was looking at him confusedly, and not only because of his exhaustion. "Dad?" he asked, sounding puzzled.

John walked over to his son, and ruffled his hair. "Go to sleep kiddo." He took the almost empty cup from Sam's hands as he scooted down on the mattress.

John pulled up the blanket a little more, and probably only got away with it because Sam was quickly losing his grip on consciousness. His eyelids were falling, and he gave one more pitiful yawn.

"G'night...Dad…" Sam mumbled.

"Night Sammy" John said as he shut the door and returned to his other responsibilities.

The next day, at around 10:30 in the morning, Sam burst into the kitchen, looking worried. "My alarm didn't go off!" He said, "Sorry, Dad, I know I set it last night!"

John hummed, looking unsurprised."That's odd. It must have fluked. Damn thing is pretty old"

Sam looked at him like he'd grown a tentacle out of his forehead, and then started to gather his school things.

"Leave it Sam, it's Friday. Just take the day off" John said.

Sam stared at him, now seriously looking for the tentacle that must be controlling his father's mind. It was the only logical explanation. "But, you said we miss enough days with moving so much, and being absent draws attention and-"

"I know, Son" John interrupted "but one day won't kill you"

"Geez Sammy," Dean chimed in, "don't look a gift horse in the mouth"

Sam seemed to accept that and joined them at the kitchen table. "Need any help?"

"Nah, we've got it, Sammy" Dean said and tossed a box of cereal of him "go enjoy some Friday morning cartoons"

Sam stared at them for a moment, before gathering a bowl and the milk jug and heading into the living room.

The low hum of the television filled the quiet house, accented by the sound of papers and books being flipped, and read, and re-read. When John got up an hour later to stretch his back, he glanced into the living room to see his youngest son's head fallen back onto the couch. He could hear the soft snores now, and didn't want to try and turn off the television, in case he woke him again.

As he returned to his chair, he saw Dean smirking at him, "You big softy" He said, sounding amused.

He knocked the back of Dean's head with his palm. "Back to work, kid."

**A/N** – So that was it. Any constructive criticism is very welcome~


End file.
